


broken and bruised

by baby_babeyy



Series: tumblr ficlets [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-21 09:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19371799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baby_babeyy/pseuds/baby_babeyy
Summary: ficlet from my tumblr, come send me prompts: baby-babeyyJon gets injured while he's out hunting trying to save Tormund. Turns out thats not the only injury he's got.





	broken and bruised

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from anon: post S8, Jon puts himself last as usual, working tirelessly for his new people: helping build huts, hunting, keeping watch. At one point he literally throws himself in front of a charging boar (or something) that was headed for Tormund and gets gored before killing it. Tormund takes care of him (he has other, older bruises too - he’s not told anyone). Tl;dr, it comes down to this line: “You don’t need to die for us again, little crow.”

Tormund was at the end of his tether. What had he done wrong for the gods to make him love such an idiotic, self sacrificing moron.

In all fairness, Jon should never have been on the hunt in the first place. With how tired the boy must’ve been from the sheer volume of hard labour he’d been doing since he returned from the south it might’ve seemed like a clever idea, throwing himself in front of a boar to save Tormund.

The boy was thick. Tormund wanted to desperately to be angry with him for what he did, but looking down at him where he was laid amongst the furs of their tent, his skin paler than usual, looking so small and vulnerable, he simply couldn’t. When Jon smiled weakly up at him, his heart melted.

“Oh pretty crow, why would you do this to yourself.” He said softly, sitting next to where Jon lay, stroking his hand soothingly through Jon’s lose curls.

“You…I had to save you…” Jon breathed out, the words sounding painful in his throat.

Tormund tutted, his heart full of so much love for the man beneath his hands.

“Oh no, you don’t need to worry about me boy, I’m tough as old boot.” He replied, “But you little crow, are a delicate southern flower, who knows what could’ve happened to you had we not got the healers to you in time.”

Tormund hated to even think of it, but he couldn’t think how else to get it across to Jon that he could’ve died.

Jon let out a pained smile that seemed more like a grimace at that, exhaling sharply. After a beat, Tormund spoke again.

“Let’s take a look at how they’ve patched you up then shall we?” He pulled down the furs that were covering Jon up to his collar bones, expecting to find a bandaged torso, but instead being met with a mosaic of mottled purple, yellow and green skin.

Tormund froze, his jaw clenching and entire body stiffening.

“What’s this?” He gritted out bluntly.

Jon attempted to scramble to pull the blankets back over himself, but with the state of him, he couldn’t manage it without seizing up in pain.

“It’s nothing, Tormund, really. I don’t even know how they all happened.”

“Nothing!” Tormund shouted, forgetting to control his volume. He continued much quoted, “That, is not nothing Jon. Tell me what happened?”

Jon wouldn’t meet Tormund’s eyes. He squirmed where he lay, unable to escape the piercing blue gaze.

“It’s just from all the work I’ve been doing I suppose. Some from the building, some from carrying things, some from little falls, this and that. Really, it’s nothing Tormund.”

The older man’s heart shattered to see how little care Jon had for his own wellbeing. He sidled up close to him, pulling him into his arms as gently as he could without disturbing his wounds.

“It’s not nothing, little crow.” He said gently. “If you don’t tell the healers about things like this, they can get worse. You never know what you might’ve done to yourself.”

Jon had gone very still and very quiet. Tormund pressed a firm, loving kiss to his forehead, stroking his hands gently over the bruised skin of his arms and torso.

“You’ve already died for us once little crow, you don’t need to do it again.”

His voice was thick with emotion, but he willed himself not to let it out. Jon hated mention of his death, he said it made him uncomfortable, like he shouldn’t be there, but Tormund didn’t know what else to say to make him understand.

“No more of this self-sacrificing bullshit, okay?” He asked, leaning over to look into Jon’s eyes. Jon nodded solemnly, for the first time looking apologetic as opposed to just resigned.

“Promise me?”

Jon grabbed Tormund’s hand and brought it to his lips, the only way he could kiss his lover without causing himself further injury.

“I promise.”


End file.
